“Who?” Even though Baltor asked this simple question, he realized that history wasn’t exactly repeating itself any longer. He would be fighting someone else.
For only the time it took him to say what he had to say, Valiante turned his head around, and barked out, “Get me Commander Barquoth!”
His two top knights turned their horses around, and then they both rode at a gallop back to their army. Once there, a minute later, they barked out, “Commander Barquoth!”
Nearly five minutes later, Barquoth arrived on a massive chariot that had to be pulled by four powerful horses—strangely, he looked very familiar to Baltor!
After all, not only did this armored giant strongly resemble his friend Yaush in the fact that he had thick and wavy blonde hair and good looks, yet was also more than five hundred lbs. and ten feet tall!
From behind this giant, all the knights on horseback began chanting out his name, “Barquoth—Barquoth—Barquoth!”
A minute later, Barquoth arrived, stepped off the chariot that elevated him by three feet, pulled off a six-foot long studded mace that he had strapped onto the back of the chariot, and then casually slung it over his shoulder as if it was a paperweight.
As he casually strutted up to Valiante, he boomed out, “Yes Commanding-Knight Valiante!”
Upon closer inspection, Baltor observed that Barquoth’s face was slightly different in facial features and angles, but otherwise, he was nearly an identical twin with Yaush!
“Commander Barquoth, the Sultan of the Sharia Empire has agreed to our plan of single-handed combat to the death between his best warrior and ours…are you ready for combat and possible death for the Order of the Vispano Knights?”
“Yes Commanding-Knight Valiante, I am ready…” With a surprising amount of respect to his voice, he looked over to Baltor, and said, “Your Sultan, I am ready to face your best warrior to the death. Who shall be my opponent?”
Without fear or hesitation, Baltor answered, “I shall be your opponent, Commander, but I have an additional request I’d like to make to your leader before we begin our duel, okay?”
Barquoth replied, “No problem, Your Sultan.”
“Commanding-Knight Valiante, would it possible to have this duel in one hour, so that it will give my troops, both army and navy, to come to our position so that they can witness the battle, firsthand? I can assure you that they will remain honorable and not interfere.”
“Of course, your Sultan,” Valiante promised. “One hour from now, we—all my honorable forces and I—shall join you right here as well, if that’s okay with you, your Sultan?”
“It is.”
Valiante, his two top knights, and Barquoth, all rode back to their troops.
Meanwhile, Baltor turned his horse around and said, “Commanding-General Han—let’s draw a circle in the sand that is one hundred feet in diameter—also, post torches every ten feet around the borders. That way, all of our forces can witness the spectacle—use as many soldiers as necessary to make my command into actuality within the hour!”
“Excellent idea, my Sultan!”
Han hurriedly rode back to the army, in order to relay this message, and find volunteers to help create this arena.
A few seconds after Han had left, Baltor turned his head to Thorn, and said, “General, ensure that all of our forces, both army and navy, come to witness the duel within the hour. I understand this will be a difficult task for you to accomplish, but make it so.”
“Yes, my Sultan!” Thorn said. Without another second’s delay, he escalated his horse into a gallop in order to fulfill his Sultan’s command.
Two minutes later, Baltor arrived back at camp, and then he began to perform all his stretching exercises.
Exactly one hour later, more than one hundred, seventy thousand troops encircled the circle, and of course the two combatants were inside—Baltor and Barquoth!
In order for everyone to clearly see the battle, everyone was ordered to sit on the ground in a circle, and not to stand up until the battle was over.
Baltor unsheathed both of his swords with a quick flick of his wrists, twirled them expertly around his body for about thirty seconds, and then held them in the ready position.
Meanwhile, Barquoth revealed that he was extremely dangerous anywhere within ten feet of his immediate position, due to his four-foot long arms that rapidly swung around his hundred-pound mace, as if it was a half-ounce flyswatter!
A moment later, Barquoth stopped swinging around his mace, set it casually back down onto his shoulder, and then asked, “Are you ready, Your Sultan?”
“I am, Commander Barquoth,” Baltor began. Surprising to everyone present, Baltor sheathed back his swords with another flick of his wrists, and then he began to bolt forward.
Meanwhile, Barquoth stood still and patiently waited for his opponent to draw near enough, in order to make a quick kill with a single swing of his mace, as he had done so often in the past.
Baltor, still about thirty feet away, did three cartwheels, but instead of stopping there, he began to do forward flips. Upon Baltor’s third flip in the air with all the power of his legs, he flew nearly sixteen feet straight up into the air!
Meanwhile, Barquoth watched in amazement at this highly-skilled acrobatic, though ready to make that swing straight over his head as soon as his opponent had made it within his mace’s berth.
Surprisingly enough, Baltor flew so high into the air that he literally landed upon Barquoth’s shoulders with both of his feet, and without pause, he performed a back flip—Barquoth’s mace missed Baltor by less than an inch, but only because Baltor had laterally twisted his body out of harm’s way.
The second he felt ground underneath his legs, he jabbed both swords forward and up at Barquoth, who now towered in front of him—instead of his blades puncturing into his opponent’s stomach, it was the hilts of both swords!
Every single one of Baltor’s forces began to cheer as they thought that their leader had already won the battle, which he could have…
Due to the nature of the deadly contest between the two combatants, Baltor did not pause upon contact, but instantly angled both of his swords out to his sides as he performed a backwards roll—Barquoth’s mace zinged inches over his opponent’s head and body.
As soon as Baltor had regained his standing position with both swords sheathed a moment later, Barquoth’s mace was coming in for yet another downward swing.
This time, Baltor threw himself into a forward roll, rolled right between his opponent’s legs, and a second later when his hands found solid ground, he kicked his feet hard into the back of Barquoth’s knees!
Both of Barquoth’s legs buckled, as he crashed hard onto the ground by his kneecaps—a split second later, Baltor flipped around, pinching both of his swords tightly up against both sides of Barquoth’s neck.
Upon feelings the sharp blades against his neck, not too mention the incredible pain in both of his knees, Barquoth realized that he had lost the battle, but strangely, he did not feel those swords make “the final cut.”
Still Barquoth dared not move a single muscle, especially to turn his head to look at his opponent.
When Barquoth didn’t die about ten seconds later, he said, “Your Sultan, I know that I have lost the battle, and am about to die, but let me say that it has truly been an honor to fight against such a skilled and quick opponent like yourself! Never before have I been so easily bested!”
Baltor replied, “It is not my desire to kill you, Commander Barquoth, unless I am forced to do so. Therefore, if you honorably surrender, I will spare your life. By the way, do you happen to know a giant like yourself named Yaush who resides in a town called Valakan?”
Upon hearing Yaush’s name, Barquoth’s head unconsciously turned around, but Baltor had already safely yanked away both blades.
Barquoth boomed out, “Yaush is my brother!”
Chills surged up and down Baltor’s spine upon hearing this incredibly surprising news.
Instead of asking any further questions about the family relations, he asked, “Do you surrender, Commander Barquoth?”
“I—I surrender, your Sultan…”
“Very well, I accept your surrender,” Baltor replied, just before he sheathed his swords, walked in front of the giant, braced both of his legs firmly into the ground, and then assisted the five hundred pound giant back onto his feet.
Meanwhile, all of Baltor’s troops had just begun to cheer, though all of Valiante’s troops remained silent.
Baltor extended his hands and arms out into the air, and then slowly lowered them back to the ground, which silenced all his troops.
Once silenced, Baltor turned back to Barquoth and said in the giant’s native tongue, “Yaush is one of my best friends in the world—he literally saved my life…from a scarain!”
With a thoughtful nod to his head, Barquoth replied in the same language, “Yaush is indeed a good man, though his and my ways of looking at life have been different since we were both born—he is a simple hunter, while I am an honorable soldier. That is why I left Valakan more than a decade ago, and soon after, found and joined the honorable ranks of the Vispano Knights!”
Baltor replied with quite a bit of interest, “I see…”
At this point in their conversation, Valiante and his two top knights had joined the pair in the very middle of the circle.
Even though there was a whole lot of confusion as to what the two men were talking about, especially since they were still speaking Valakanese, Valiante called out, “Your Sultan, you are the victor of this most honorable duel, and therefore, the city of Lasparus is yours—congratulations!”
Valiante’s troops began to cheer—Baltor’s forces joined right in.
Once silence reigned nearly two minutes later, Baltor finally replied, “Thank you, Commanding-Knight Valiante!”
Without pause, he revealed in the language of Vispano, “By the way, Commander Barquoth, your brother, his wife, and Valakan are all in serious danger!”
“Why?” Barquoth asked with a look of worry now totally etched onto his face.
Baltor answered, “There is a powerful and evil army which lies far to our east, yet they are quickly traveling westbound to destroy my capital city, and possibly other directions…
“Soon enough—perhaps already—this army will run across your cities or towns, and they will annihilate everyone there, as I know for a fact because that they destroyed a good friend of mine’s entire kingdom without mercy! This entire planet is in danger.”
With a very concerned expression upon his face, Barquoth asked, “Really, Your Sultan?”
“Really…a little over six weeks ago was the time when I first heard the horrible news from one of my best friends, the sole survivor—twenty thousand of my best and fastest cavalry soldiers are currently galloping that direction with a two-fold mission!
“One, save the residents of Valakan by assisting them with their retreat to my capital city of Pavelus, which is very well fortified. And number two, take a nice-sized chunk out of this army before we—the bulk of my army and myself—arrive from the northwest, in order to finish them off!”
Barquoth’s glance fell to Valiante, and he asked, “Commanding Knight Valiante, would it be possible for me to temporarily join this Sultan and his forces, so that I can help eradicate the army which has possibly already destroyed my hometown and family of Valakan?”
Without waiting for an answer, he added, “Once this war is over, I promise I will return home, as my heart, mind and soul belongs to the Order of the Vispano Knights.”
Even though Valiante’s eyes fell to the ground, yet he did not immediately give an answer … a few moments later, he looked back up with scrunched-up eyes at Baltor, and asked, “You said that this army might be traveling in other directions, as well? Do you know how many this army has in their ranks?”
After shrugging his shoulders, Baltor answered, “To answer to your first question, yes, it is quite possible. As for your second, no I don’t know how many, but I heard millions. They’ve at least destroyed one powerful kingdom containing two thriving cities—perhaps many more by now!”
Valiante replied, “I see. Yes, Commander Barquoth, you may accompany the Sultan, and return when you are done.”
Barquoth was about to reply with a “yes sir,” but Valiante unexpectedly snapped his fingers before pointing his index finger up into the skies, indicating to his commander to remain silent.
Only a few moments later, Valiante half-sang, “Actually, I change my mind, Commander. If Your Sultan agrees to my little idea, I think that it’d be a better idea if we all, the Vispano Knights, along with Your Sultan and your forces, all deploy for Parthway…
“By coming along with us, Your Sultan, you can personally relay your message to my Duke that this army you speak of may soon become a dire threat to the Vispano Province! Do you concur, Your Sultan?”
After pondering his idea for about a dozen-or-so seconds, Baltor nodded and answered, “Your idea is ideal, Commanding-Knight Valiante! In fact, this common enemy may be the key ingredient to reestablishing our trade and peace between our two nations. So my answer is, yes…let’s go.”
With a smile, Valiante replied, “I agree.”
Thus, the following day, all of Valiante’s forces began the trek northeast on the main dirt road between Lasparus and the Vispano Province’s capital city called Parthway.
Following behind them were fifty thousand of Baltor’s soldiers, as well the man himself. During the night hours, he led in the front of the ranks on his stallion, while Thorn led in the rear of the formation.
During the daylight hours, they both slept in the backs of different bunk wagons. Meanwhile, Han oversaw the riding formation for an additional three-to-four more hours, just before halting the army behind Valiante’s just-halted army, in order to make camp, eat chow, and get six-or-seven hours of sleep until it was time to wake up in the evening hours and start a brand-new day.
As for those ground forces assigned to remain in Lasparus, so as to not scare the Duke of Vispano—twenty thousand soldiers. As for the vast fleet of marines, sailors, ships, and catapulting machines, Baltor had half of them return to Pavelus—the other half stayed in Lasparus’s harbor.
Finally, shortly before the splitting up of the forces of the Sharia Empire, Baltor field-promoted Thorn to major-general, Petrol to commanding-general, Ray to brigadier-general, and Han to governor of Lasparus.
The very first charge given to Governor Han was for him to write and deliver a message by his fastest frigate back to Pavelus, relaying all the successful news about their mission, to date. His next-and-final charge was for him to govern the city effectively and productively, as well as the troops—this, Han swore to do with his mind, heart and soul for the glory of the empire.
CHAPTER IX
Back in Pavelus—6 weeks and 1 night earlier…
Through most of this first night of traveling that passed, Hawkins and Bradmir rode on their horses to the left side of the army without conversation.
This army had just begun the long journey southeast where they would traverse through one thousand, one hundred seventy-six miles of desert, always during the nighttime, and depending upon travel conditions, to arrive at their final destination approximately six to seven weeks later—the city of Mauritia.
In the lead were the infantry soldiers who donned chain mail armor, helmets, and swords—thirty thousand soldiers who marched in columns of ten.
Following right behind the infantry were the two divisions of cavalries—the “assault division” consisted of four thousand elite soldiers who rode on camels, horses, or upon horse-drawn chariots.
The “support division” consisted of one thousand soldiers that rode on, or in the back of, seven hundred fifty horse-drawn covered wagons, which wagons were stocked with food, water, tents, supplies, etc.
The final two thousand soldiers, all riding on horseback on the outskirts of
the entire procession, were the officers; they continuously scanned all their horizons for any possible dangers.
Of course, there was the guide-on bearer, which made thirty-five thousand and one, who rode to the left of Hawkins and his commanding general named Rumsfield, which made thirty-five thousand and three.
The last individual that rode along at their side, but wasn’t tabulated into the total number of troops, was Bradmir. This seventeen-year-old’s most striking feature were the dozens of small freckles upon his very boyish face—in fact, the only hair he had at all on his head were his thick red eyebrows, as well his curly red hair that stopped short of his shoulders.
Most of Bradmir’s hair was hidden by a red-brimmed hat with a feather of the same color sticking out of it. He also wore a tight red trench coat and pants that both had gold seams, a white cotton tunic with furls at the neckline and sleeves, black pants, and a pair of black boots.
During this first night of travel, which lasted until shortly before sunrise, everyone remained steadfastly silent, focusing on the road ahead…
That is, until about six o’clock in the morning, Hawkins finally ordered, “Commanding-General Rumsfield, order the soldiers to stop and begin the process of setting up camp and the temporary stables, as well making us up some hot chow, before we retire for the day.”
After nodding, Rumsfield looked to his right side, and called out through his megaphone, “Forces, halt!”
The army halted in their tracks.
Rumsfield turned his horse to the right ninety degrees, so that his horse’s head now faced the troops. He then called out, “Left face.”
The army did.
Rumsfield next ordered, “You heard the governor’s orders—set up camp, the stables, and of course, hot chow. Remember this, Forces: The sooner we get done, the sooner we can get some sleep. Now execute.”
While the army did as ordered with a quickness, the guide-on bearer hopped off his horse, pulled out the flag holder stored in a saddlebag, and set both flags into the holder about thirty feet away. He then left to assist the other soldiers.
BOOK II OF III: The Reign of the Sultan Page 16
